


All I Ask of You

by Ashtree11



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, First Time, Oral Sex, Phantom of the Opera AU, Top!Edelgard, Vaginal Fingering, imma just let it be what it is im so sorry, my first edelthea fic and it's smut, or ajacent more like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26382463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashtree11/pseuds/Ashtree11
Summary: For the past five years, Dorothea Arnault, the Nightingale of the Mittelfrank Opera Company in Enbarr, has made a friend with the Phantom that lurks within the shadows of the grand stage, but not once has she ever seen her face. One night, she is determined to bring the Phantom out from the darkness.Though, she may get more than she expect.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 10
Kudos: 101





	All I Ask of You

**Author's Note:**

> Uh... hey! I've never written for Edelthea before but after seeing this: https://twitter.com/spearmintaii/status/1301914176953090049 a part of my imagination couldn't resist and my discord friends kicked the rest into overdrive. So I bring you smut, Edelthea fandom, I hope I did your girls justice. (this is my second time writing smut so that's another thing i hope i did okay aah)

Mittelfrank Opera, the grand jewel of Enbarr second only to Hresvelg Palace. People gathered far and wide to attend the many fine operas premiering there, but nothing gathered the masses more than seeing the Dorothea Arnault in the leading roles.

Mentored by the legendary songstress Manuela Casagranda herself, Dorothea quickly garnered a prestigious reputation of having a voice like a nightingale, hauntingly beautiful that moved even the harshest critics to tears. 

And tonight was no exception. 

The new production of Chalumeau’s _Hannibal_ was a sold out tour de force with a standing ovation for the stunning beauty at center stage. 

Dorothea gave her audience a grateful smile as she dipped into a curtsy and the rest of the cast came onto stage for their final bows. Just as the curtains were making their descent, a passing thought flitted across her mind: _I hope_ you _were watching_.

The curtains touched down on the stage, and the lights flicked on behind her. Stagehands filtered in from the wings and lifted away set pieces and props. 

Wordlessly, Dorothea retreated into her private dressing room. The others were understanding of her silence. As a vocalist, it was important for her to preserve her throat, her precious instrument. And so it wasn’t unusual to expect the songstress to begin her vocal rest right after a performance. 

She pressed herself back against the door as it clicked shut. Another night had come and gone and fatigue began to set in. Swaying on her feet, she made her way towards the vanity where vases upon vases of bouquets and gifts were already awaiting her. But one item in particular caught her attention: a golden feather from that of a barn owl delicately wrapped in a string of gemstone beads. A note inked with beautiful cursive greeted her: _Emerald green to match your breathtaking eyes that had shone so brightly beneath the spotlights, my songbird._

An elated grin formed Dorothea’s lips and for a moment she forgot her rising exhaustion. The note left no name, but she knew exactly who had left it.

“So you _were_ watching,” she mused aloud to the empty room, hoping for a response.

A shadow shifted in the corner of the room, shifting on their feet, hesitating to answer the woman’s call. As the figure managed a step forward, the door swung open and they quickly slinked back into the darkness. They were perturbed by the intrusion, but hardly slighted. They were accustomed to biding their time, and Dorothea would be _well_ worth the wait. 

“Of course!” announced the newcomer, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Dorothea jumped and whirled about, holding a hand over her rapidly beating heart. “Honestly, Ferdie, I expect as much from Caspar, but we’ve talked about this. Please knock.”

The man bowed his head with a sheepish smile. “Oh my apologies, Dorothea, I assumed that you were already aware of my presence. It seems that I’ve let my excitement to see you get the better of my behavior. It shall not happen again.”

She rolled her eyes, but still gave the man a friendly smile. “At any rate, I’m glad you were able to come tonight. It feels as though it’s been ages since the whole group has been in one place.”

“I agree. Taking over my father’s business has pulled me every which way physically with traveling, and mentally for certain. But it makes coming home all the more sweeter I’d say. And what a homecoming treat to see that you are as radiant on stage as ever.”

She giggled behind a hand. “I see that life on the road hasn’t dulled that tongue of yours in the slightest. Still charming as ever.”

He bowed once more, this time with a gleaming, confident smile. “Only the best for you, Dorothea. Do you have any plans for the rest of the night?”

Her eyes drifted over the room as she thought. “Nothing... in particular. I will need to rest my voice—”

“Fantastic!” Ferdinand beamed. “Then you shall join us all for dinner. A celebration of our reunion and tonight’s marvelous performance.”

Conflict brewed in Dorothea’s chest. On one hand, she was ecstatic to spend the evening with her closest friends. It’s been years since they’ve been in Enbarr all at once. Who knew when the next opportunity would arise. But on the other hand, she had hoped that tonight would finally be the night that she may speak to her mystery companion face to face.

It’s true what they say, that being at the top was a lonesome thing. And before she had met the others, she was oh so terribly lonely. However, there was one person that Dorothea could count on to keep her company. The Phantom of the Opera, the members of the company had come to dub the strange presence hiding among the rafters and below the orchestra pit. A ghost haunting the halls, they surmised. A restless spirit of a prima donna of olde.

To Dorothea though, the Phantom was the distant, yet comforting voice in the shadows, the roses that fell from the rafters and into her lap, the brief cursive written notes of praise, the owl feathers wrapped in gemstone beads... Her shadowy friend was such an elusive, yet constant, figure in Dorothea’s life for the better part of five years of her career. She longed to know who she was. If only the figure shared the same inclination to divulge her identity.

She poured everything she had into tonight’s performance, singing the aria _Think of Me_ with every ounce of her desire for her companion to be at ease enough to show her face. 

If she truly wasn’t going to show even after that... “Very well,” Dorothea relented. “Give me a moment to dress into something appropriate. I don’t think the seamstresses would be keen on me wearing my costume outside of the theater.”

Ferdinand laughed heartily, oblivious to her half-hearted tone. “No I don’t imagine that they would be. I shall gather the others then, and I’ll be back for you shortly.”

Gently, he reached to grasp one of Dorothea’s hands and placed a chaste kiss on the top of it. When their eyes met, there was a tenderness in his hazel gaze that she’s never seen before. He smiled one last time before finally leaving the room.

She held her hand against her chest, feeling the lingering warmth there. Why had he... 

She shook her head. It was probably nothing, just a long time friend expressing politeness. More than likely, he’s grown so accustomed to treating noblewomen in such a way during his travels that he hasn’t been able to switch back to colloquialisms yet. Yes, that must be it, no need to dwell.

She shuffled behind the partition to change out of her costume. Layer by layer the ornate dress fell away, replaced by a lighter, simpler dress and stockings. Then she returned to her seat in front of the vanity to release her hair from the confines of its bejeweled pins and tight bun. When she finished, her reflection stared back at her, her eyes tired and now on the verge of falling closed. The earlier fatigue was resettling back within her. Frowning, Dorothea lifted the owl feather, tracing the soft edges before she twirled it between her thumb and forefinger.

“He reminds me of a puppy more and more.”

Dorothea startled in her chair, heart leaping to her throat in a strangled gasp. Then, after a beat, she settled down. She knew that voice. Feminine and rich, enunciating every syllable with purpose in a pitch that tingled in Dorothea’s ear like a perfect note. She smiled at the empty room as relief lifted the tension away from her. “Ferdie means well. It’s funny how you equate him to a dog, when it’s a sort of inside joke of ours that he’s more like a bee.”

The Phantom hummed, though it didn’t sound as though it was coming from any _one_ place, which left Dorothea to flick her attention about the room. “Sounds like there is quite a story behind such a joke.”

“Have I never told you that story?”

“No I don’t believe you have.”

“Then perhaps one day I can share it?” Dorothea asked.

“Perhaps,” said the woman.

The conversation lulled. 

Dorothea cleared her throat. “Thank you for the beads,” she said, changing the subject. “They’re beautiful.”

At that, the Phantom chuckled. “You were exquisite tonight, my dear. Only the best for you.”

Those were Ferdinand’s words. But the way the Phantom said them with an edge of emphasis made Dorothea raise a brow. Was that... jealousy she detected? The thought of such a thing coming from her seemingly aloof companion was comically unexpected. So the voice in the shadows _was_ human after all.

“Who is he to you?” the woman eventually wondered. Then quickly added as if remembering her place, “If you don’t mind my prying.”

Dorothea leaned back against the vanity, a coy smile playing on her lips. She couldn’t see her companion’s face, but that didn’t restrict her imagination from having its way with how she might look at the moment. She wished she could see her. “I consider him to be one of my dear friends. Though we hadn’t started that way when we first met.” She laughed. “Compared to how well I got along with Bernadetta, Caspar, and Petra during our first meetings, it’s a wonder how Ferdie and I even formed a friendship.”

“I see.” A pause. “He seems quite taken with you.”

 _Oh..._ Dorothea blinked. Suddenly, her confidence faltered as she rubbed her thumb over the spot on her hand where he had kissed. “Does he?”

“The way I see it, long distances can elicit such things in people looking for more in a relationship. A person who travels for most of their lives will want to seek a place to place roots down eventually.”

The words sunk deep into Dorothea’s mind, pouring into every crevice until she was left buzzing with its implications. “Yes, I can certainly understand that,” she agreed, her tone uncharacteristically smaller. Ferdinand was just a friend, nothing more. He couldn’t be anything else. He was the new head of the Aegir house, tasked with carrying the mantle of his father and the business prospects that came with it. He’d be expected to marry another woman with status, a daughter of another businessman perhaps. There was nothing for him to gain if he wished to court _her_. That sort of thing was a subject for the plots of paperbacks that grace the shelves of bookstores, not the life of an ordinary songstress with an expiration date of her time in the spotlight looming over her head.

But even so, if he were truly intending to court her, she... wouldn’t be _averse_ to the prospect.

“Would you accept his advances?” the Phantom pushed on, as if reading her thoughts.

Dorothea pushed off from the table and paced about the room in a slow circle. “Why the sudden curiosity?”

The Phantom didn’t answer. Instead she said, “I can see now that I’m overstepping boundaries. My sincerest apologies, Dorothea.”

“It’s alright,” she assured quickly, not wanting to let the topic drop quite yet. “I... Ferdinand is a good friend. Though if he were to, for some reason, wish to court me, I wouldn’t reject him. If anything it would be an ideal situation. I’d be marrying someone I already know and who will care for me long after I leave the opera. It’s not as though I have many options lined up for me. My beauty and voice won’t last forever, Phantom...”

Another pregnant pause fell over them.

She rubbed her temple with a sigh. This was not the sort of conversation she expected to have tonight. She wanted to finally know the Phantom after years of anonymity. Instead it felt as though she was the one being dissected with her deepest fear being revisited for the umpteenth time.

“Dorothea,” the Phantom called, spoken so softly that Dorothea had to strain to hear properly. Fortunately for the Phantom, that meant that the songstress couldn’t hear the sound of her heart breaking at the confession.

Dorothea halted her pacing, placing herself in the middle of the dressing room. “Yes?”

“I... I would like for us to meet. If you would allow it.”

Her heart skipped a beat. In an instant, all talks about Ferdinand and her bleak future were forgotten, relegated to the back of her mind for another time. Right now, she allowed the hopeful excitement of meeting her long time friend at long last. “I-I do,” she answered. “I have for a while now.”

“I heard your song tonight,” the Phantom continued. “Though they were the words of Chalumeau, I heard _you_ , my dear.”

Elation coursed through her. She whirled about, trying to catch a glimpse of her companion’s location. “Yes, exactly. I’m so glad you did, it was for you.”

The Phantom hummed again in acknowledgement.

“Please, you don’t have to hide from me. I want us to meet.”

“Look to your mirror, my songbird. You’ll find me there inside.”

Her mirror? The vanity? No that didn’t make sense. That must mean...

She turned around to where a single full length mirror hung from the wall adjacent to the partition. She stared at it long and hard, taking careful steps toward it. Then the reflection changed, and it was then that Dorothea realized it was a two way mirror all along.

She stopped just in front of it, blinking owlishly with her mouth agape. Faintly, she could see a woman with stark white hair tied off in a ponytail on the side of her head, and dressed in a black suit with a dark cloak drawn over her shoulders, standing in the mirror. Covering the upper half of her face was a silver mask with red flames on the left side, and from the dark eye holes two different colored irises peered out: one a bright violet, and the other a glowing red.

It wasn’t quite the face to face meeting she envisioned, but she was too caught up in the euphoria of finally meeting her mysterious companion to care about the semantics.

“Hello, Dorothea,” the Phantom greeted and she bowed with an arm crossed over her chest.

“H-hello,” was all she managed to say in return.

“I should have done this sooner. Perhaps then...” the Phantom averted her gaze.

“What is it?” Dorothea asked, concerned. 

But the Phantom shook her head and changed course. “I have a request, if you wouldn’t mind terribly.”

She stepped closer eagerly. “Of course.”

A ghost of a smile tugged on the corner of the Phantom’s lips, almost sad and resigned. “If your future truly belongs to him, then I won’t ask it of you. But may I ask that I have your present? Just for tonight?”

When Dorothea didn’t answer, she continued hastily, “You are free to refuse. One word from you and I will cease immediately and leave you to enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“Phantom...” Dorothea frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re asking of me.” A lie. She’s fallen victim to the desires of men often enough to know how to read between the lines of their well rehearsed words and see the ulterior intentions behind their flattery. She knew what the Phantom wanted, but the immediate erection of her mental walls and fight or flight response to such a roundabout proposal were nowhere to be found. Here stood a friend who has seen her vulnerabilities, witnessed her yawning loneliness even when there were millions of adoring eyes upon her. She knew what the Phantom was asking, yet she wished to hear it plainly, lest she come to the conclusion that she was reading too far into this.

“May I _show_ you what I mean?”

Anticipation shot through her like electricity, making her heartbeat quake and her breath hitch. Was this truly happening? Or had she simply fallen asleep on her sofa and Ferdinand was moments away from waking her?

Regardless, Dorothea nodded mutely. 

And in one smooth action, the Phantom stepped out from the mirror, strode up to the songstress, and cupped her cheek with a satin-gloved hand. A single breath passed between the two as the Phantom rose up on her toes and sealed their lips in a soft kiss. The chill of the mask brushed against Dorothea’s burning face, pulling a shallow gasp from the songstress.

All too soon, the kiss ended and Dorothea looked down at the Phantom with a half-lidded gaze. Their faces were still mere inches apart

“Just one night,” the Phantom murmured, tracing a thumb over Dorothea’s wetted lips. “That’s all I ask of you.”

“You...” Dorothea swallowed through her breathlessness. A single kiss did that? “You make it sound as though you are leaving.”

“For both our sakes, perhaps it’s for the best. But I don’t wish to dwell on that. An answer if you would please, my dear.”

Dorothea opened her mouth to answer when a knock at the door halted her words.

“Dorothea?” Ferdinand called. She could hear him smiling as he said, “I remembered to knock. Are you ready?”

She looked at the Phantom, beheld the woman’s patience as she took a step back to allow Dorothea space to think. But she didn’t need it, the answer was obvious.

“I’m not feeling quite well, Ferdinand. Tonight has drained me more than I thought.”

“Oh?” came his concern laced with disappointment. “Do you need assistance with anything then? Could I fetch you something?”

“No, no, it’s alright. I just need rest is all. Wouldn’t be the first time.” From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw the Phantom smile.

“I see. Very well then, Dorothea, perhaps we can reschedule. I am in the city for a while longer and I’d love it if we might have dinner together soon. Tomorrow even?”

The Phantom’s smile disappeared. 

“That sounds lovely, Ferdie,” she answered, more out of politeness than interest. “Now... if you wouldn’t mind—”

“Yes, of course, of course. I’ll let the others know of your condition. I hope you have a peaceful rest, Dorothea.”

She thanked him and listened to his bootsteps growing fainter and fainter as he walked away. With a quiet exhale of relief, Dorothea turned back to address the Phantom, prepared to offer some form of apology for making the woman wait.

Her lips were silenced as the Phantom brought their faces together into a kiss more passionate than the first. Teeth grazed her bottom lip and she fought to reciprocate her companion’s sudden fervor.

“Do I have your answer, dear Dorothea?” she husked in between breaths.

“Yes,” Dorothea said through her stupor, and felt the Phantom tug on her hand, prompting her forwards as she herself walked backwards into the mirror.

It was like she stepped through a door into another world. From the warm light and comforting clutter of her dressing room to the cold stone corridor lined with lit torch sconces lighting their path. 

Meanwhile. Dorothea’s mind was clouded and dazed with the gravity of her decision as she allowed herself to be pulled deeper and deeper into the abyss of the opera house. Even with the darkness licking at the corners of the corridors, she felt safe. The Phantom spared the songstress short glances over her shoulder, keeping a firm yet gentle grasp on her wrist that anchored her in the present that Dorothea had chosen to gift her. 

Before she knew it, they arrived in a spacious den, sparsely decorated with a writing desk, a handful of paintings hung on the brick walls, and a few rooms with curtains for doors.

It was warm, warmer than the corridor they had been walking down and much more lit as well as candelabras littered the space.

“You live here?” Dorothea asked.

“I do. Apologies for the temperature. I’m not fond of the dark.”

“You’ve chosen an interesting living space for such a phobia,” she attempted to joke. 

The Phantom’s gloved fingers tightened around her wrist. “I have my reasons.” She led them to one of the rooms and drew back a curtain to reveal a large bed with thick crimson blankets and matching plush pillows. It was perhaps the most ornate decor in the den. 

“Do you wish to continue, Dorothea?” asked the Phantom as she released her hand.

“You already have my answer.”

“Be as it may,” she said as she removed her cloak and blazer and hung them on a hook in the wall beside the curtain, leaving only her vest and buttoned shirt. “I just want you to be certain.”

At that, Dorothea gave the Phantom a gentle smile, one that belied how her heartbeat was thundering like a storm in her chest. Whether it was from nervousness or excitement, the lines were too blurred to discern. “I am.”

The Phantom stepped closer, and thumbed Dorothea’s chin. “Thank you... Now, let yourself unwind, my dearest songbird, and think only of tonight. I will take care of the rest.” She pulled her down into another fiery kiss. Just as Dorothea was about to reciprocate, she felt a warm swipe of the Phantom’s tongue across her bottom lip, sending a shudder down her spine. 

Her lips parted and their tongues met in a mutual dance. The Phantom’s gloved hands began to wander, smoothing down the length of her neck and made their descent lower. She lingered on Dorothea’s breasts, and deepened the kiss as she kneaded them ardently.

Dorothea whimpered, a sound that tapered off into labored and heated breathing. She barely registered how one by one, the buttons of her dress came undone under the Phantom’s lithe fingers. 

The Phantom coaxed the dress off from her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet and leaving the songstress in only her underclothes. She guided her back against the edge of the bed and lowered Dorothea to lay down, peppering the column of her neck with small nibbles and licks.

Dorothea’s eyes fell closed, savoring each sensation of the Phantom’s caress. Then a thought occurred to her. “...wait.”

The Phantom stopped immediately, lifting her face away from Dorothea’s ravished neck. “Yes? What is it?” Her concern made the songstress smile endearingly.

“I would like to know your name.”

From their proximity, she could hear how the Phantom gulped audibly at the request. But before Dorothea could comment on it, her wandering hand reached behind the songstress to unhook her bra and tossed the garment away. “No one has said my name in years,” she said.

“Let me change that then,” Dorothea said around the shiver that wracked through her.

The Phantom slotted her thigh against Dorothea’s core, relishing in the gasp that she drew from her kiss-swollen lips. She grinned when the woman’s hips moved against her, desperate for friction. “Edelgard,” she purred into the songstress’s ear. “You may call me Edelgard.”

“Edelgard...” Dorothea tasted the name for herself. Beneath her fingertips where they had curled into the woman’s clothed back, she felt Edelgard shiver. Then a sharp pain blossomed on the juncture of her shoulder from an exhilarating bite.

“Again,” Edelgard commanded and soothed the wound with a swirl of her tongue at the same time she pinched a nipple between her satin fingers. It had truly been so long.

Dorothea throat constricted, caught in the crossfire between a gasp and a yelp. “E-Edelgard!”

“Shh, shh,” the Phantom hushed, and pressed a finger to Dorothea’s lips. “Not so loud, you must rest your voice, my songbird.”

Dorothea had a retort readied on her tongue, but as Edelgard moved down and took a nipple into her mouth, the words fizzled into nothing more than a mewl. The thigh pressed against her center pushed forward, sending a toe curling jolt through her.

The violet and red eyes peered up at her through the dark hole of the mask. The violet promised a night of amorous passion, while the red swore to bring about carnal desires. Candlelight glinted over the silver finish, making it seem as though the painted red flames were truly alive. It was a mesmerizing sight to behold, one that left her dizzy. And they hadn’t even begun in earnest yet.

“Look at you,” Edelgard mused, taking in the sight of the revered Nightingale of Mittelfrank panting and blushing mess with her beautiful chestnut locks, once brushed to perfection, splayed haphazardly over her bedspread. “For all the eyes and hearts you capture, my dear, none of them have ever seen you like this, have they.”

Dorothea shook her head, her lips pressed to suppress a whine as Edelgard slinked lower and lower, closer to where she desperately needed her. The soft material of the Phantom’s suit brushed over Dorothea’s exposed flesh, raising goosebumps in its wake.

“Is this sight just for me?” she asked, alternating between nuzzling to nipping at Dorothea’s inner thigh. Again, the chill of her mask caused her to flinch, but she pinned the limb down in a vice grip. “Answer me, Dorothea.”

“Y-yes,” Dorothea all but choked. Tears began to prickle at the corners of her eyes. “Yes, Edelgard, just for you. Only for you, _please_.”

“Shh, mind your voice, dearest,” she gently reminded, her breath ghosting over Dorothea’s soaked center. Only when she caught sight of her fingers curling tight and bloodless into the sheets, did she finally relent.

Perching Dorothea’s legs over each of her shoulders, Edelgard settled in and languidly ran her tongue up the length of the songstress’s core, ending with a deliberate flick against her clit. Immediately, fingers threaded through her platinum locks, and the sting of manicured nails scratching her scalp spurred Edelgard to plunge her tongue into Dorothea’s slit. 

“So sweet,” she praised. “No one has tasted you like this, have they.”

Dorothea was beyond words. Her hips spoke for her long before she could even formulate a coherent thought, thrusting up to recapture her lover’s mouth. 

Edelgard dove back in with a content hum, knowingly sending an enticing thrum through her lover’s core. A high pitched squeak of surprise fell from the writhing songstress. What little restraint she had left collapsed, leaving a burning impulse to _devour_.

Her assault was merciless, alternating between long, broad tongue strokes to slipping inside of the songstress in shallow thrusts. Dorothea found herself in the crossroads of wanting to pull her companion closer and to push her away as the sensation of the velvet tongue tasting her overloaded her nerves. Her inexperience was soon to be her downfall as Edelgard took the sensitive nub between her lips and her release overtook her. 

With a cry, Dorothea fell limp on the bed and basked in the aftershocks.

Edelgard looked up, drinking in the sight of her lover. How she wished that she could paint this moment and immortalize it forever for her eyes only. 

Dorothea’s eyes were closed with bliss, plump lips parted with heavy breaths and a small, satisfied smile curled at the edge. The songstress may be satisfied, but Edelgard still had five years of hunger to tend to.

“When I’m finished with you, you’ll desire only for me,” Edelgard said in a low voice as she returned to clean up the mess of Dorothea’s essence now dripping onto the crimson bedspread. Not a drop should go to waste. “You deserve the _best_ , my darling Dorothea.”

“E-Edelgard...”

The Phantom’s words seeped with promise, magnetizing in a way only her rich voice could deliver. What Dorothea would give to know what that voice sounded like if the woman sang. 

As the promise lingered in her ears and Edelgard continued her kitten licks at her core and little bites on her inner thighs—no doubt to prepare her for another go—her mind couldn’t help but wander to the future, just as it always does any chance it gets.

What would her future spouse think if he were to learn she had already... given herself away? A spouse—a _husband_ —had always been a faceless concept, but now the shapeless, abstract figure blurred and reformed until it vaguely resembled Ferdinand. What would _he_ think? Then again, why should it matter?

Edelgard’s fingers dug deeper into her rear and pulled her closer. “Your mind is wandering. Think only of tonight,” she reminded her in a hard tone. “Think of me, dearest.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to fret,” Edelgard said sweetly, dragging her satin clad hand up Dorothea’s waist, over the curve of her stomach, and stopped to cup one of her breasts. “You simply need practice, and I’m very _eager_ ,” she swiped her thumb over the nipple, “to assist you.” She brought her other hand up and caught the fabric of the glove between her teeth to pull it off in a smooth motion.

Dorothea’s still unfocused gaze blearily followed the bare hand down, down, down, until she felt the fingertips trace her sopping, sensitive core with an unbearable gentleness. “Edelgard,” she moaned, unconsciously straining her hips up when Edelgard teasingly removed her touch entirely.

“I believe you are ready. Good,” Edelgard loomed over her, and bent down to speak directly into her ear, “I want to see you come undone this time.”

“You’re—” Dorothea croaked and she cleared her throat. “You’re overdressed.”

“Tonight is about you, my songbird,” Edelgard said without hesitation as she licked the shell of her ear.

“S-still,” she shuddered.

“I must warn you, you won’t like what you see.”

“I wish to see you. You don’t have to hide from me,” she insisted, echoing her words from the dressing room.

At that, Edelgard chuckled dryly. “As you wish.” She sat up and set to work on the buttons of her vest and the shirt soon after until the woman was completely bare save for her trousers.

Dorothea gaped at the sight of her torso and the expanse of scars that marred the pale skin. While a few looked to be jagged and caused by accidents, there were several that looked far too clean and methodical. They were old, and yet seeing them brought a pang to Dorothea’s heart. 

Gingerly, and seemingly of their own volition, her fingers brushed over them. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice suddenly weak with grief.

Edelgard laid a hand over hers, stopping it in its path. There was a gleam of sadness in her eyes, and yet her tone was as haughty as ever. “Whatever for, dearest?”

“I’m not sure. I... wasn’t sure of what else to say.”

“Hm.” Edelgard pecked her on the lips. “Thank you for your concern, but we’re not here to dwell on the past, now are we?”

Dorothea’s felt her face flush all over again, made even worse as Edelgard’s fingers continued to stroke at her slit once more. “Right. Think of the present.”

The answer earned her a smirk. “Look who’s learning,” the Phantom remarked lustfully and pushed in a finger.

“Ah!” the songstress cried. 

Edelgard allowed her a few moments to adjust, speaking soft encouragements into her ear all the while before pushing in a second.

“Edelgard!” Dorothea’s inner walls clenched around her before slowly relaxing.

“That’s it my dear. You’re doing so very well,” she praised and gave her fingers a tentative pump. Seeing Dorothea’s expression screw tighter and small gasps tumbled out of her enticing lips, something finally snapped within Edelgard and she began to build a fervent rhythm.

Not once did she turn her eyes away. She wanted to commit every detail of this moment to memory, wanted to hear more of her beautiful voice, wanted to believe that she was the only one who would ever see Dorothea this way. _No one_ , not even Ferdinand. A growl rumbled in her chest at the thought of that man, igniting a spark that spurred her into pumping her fingers harder, _faster_. Desperate arms wrapped around her shoulders, nails dug into her back, and hurried gasps and moans filled her ears—yes she was beginning to feel drunk from everything that Dorothea was giving her.

“So beautiful,” Edelgard slurred. “You’re taking my fingers beautifully. Oh, if only you could see yourself, songbird. You are absolutely _bewitching_. I wish I could paint you while I take you like this. Do you have any idea of the power you have over me?”

If Dorothea had a response, it was lost to the miasma of pleasure that just shot up her spine when she felt Edelgard’s fingers curling inside of her. Goddess, she was _inside_ of her. The reality made her lightheaded, yet she couldn’t feel more grounded in the moment. Especially when her body vyed for _more please more_ ; when Edelgard’s back arched against her every time she dragged her nails down the length of it, and especially when she had Edelgard’s hypnotic voice speaking directly into her ear.

“How does it feel, dearest?” _Do you think_ he _could make you feel this way?_ she almost asked, but held her tongue. Tonight belonged to them and them alone.

“G-good,” Dorothea managed to sound out. “So good, Edelgard.”

It didn’t take long before she began to feel the beginning of her peak. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” she pleaded. Though she hardly needed to.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. I want to see you come apart for me, Dorothea.” She curled her fingers again and changed her pace to faster and shallower thrusts. It mattered not that her hand had begun to cramp with the effort. She couldn’t give less of a damn about that. “Let yourself go, my dear,” she urged. “I have you.”

The possessiveness crawling at the edge of Edelgard’s words sent Dorothea careening into her second climax of the night. She came with a resounding moan that, to Edelgard’s ears, rivaled that of the most exquisite arias. Nothing can ever hope to compare.

Edelgard’s fingers still moved within her, carrying the height of pleasure for as long as it would remain before it became too much and Dorothea laid a hand over hers, signalling her to stop. Mercifully, Edelgard carefully removed her fingers, and finally Dorothea relaxed. She had no hope that her voice would work in that moment, so she hoped that the smile plastered on her face was enough to express her satisfaction.

A moment of respite fell over them. While Dorothea took it to recover from her bliss haze, Edelgard drank in every detail of the songstress’s disheveled state from her mussed up brunette locks to the sheen of sweat gathered above her delicate brows. She took her soaked fingers into her mouth, savoring the taste of the songstress with a quiet moan until they were clean. Unable to resist any longer, Edelgard descended, intent on placing a kiss upon her lover’s lips.

Though she was still lightheaded, Dorothea reached up to touch Edelgard’s cheek as thanks in place of her missing voice. But as the two women moved at the same, Dorothea’s hand accidentally knocked against Edelgard’s mask and knocked it askew.

In a panic, Edelgard shot backwards on the bed and her hand flew to catch the crooked accessory before it could fully leave her face. Meanwhile, Dorothea quickly sat up and went to help however she can. When her hand was within inches of the crooked mask, Edelgard caught her wrist in an instant. Her red eye glared back at her unblinking, making her shrink and recoil under its intensity.

Seeing this, Edelgard’s gaze softened and she released Dorothea’s hand before placing a little more distance between them. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Dorothea held her hand for a moment, then let it drop and scooted forward slightly. “Oh no, you just surprised me, is all. Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Edelgard reassured as she affixed the mask back to its original position. “See? No harm done, my dear. Now, where were we?”

Dorothea traced her eyes over the details of the mask. The intensity of her earlier passion ebbed away under a single burning question. “Why do you wear that?” she wondered, ignoring Edelgard’s suggestive comment.

“It is... a long story,” she frowned. “Certainly not appropriate for a night like this, that much I can say.”

Her tone held the weight of finality, but Dorothea didn’t relent. “May I remove it?”

At that, Edelgard barked a humorless laugh. “My, my. Aren’t we flying close to the sun, my songbird?”

“If you’re planning to leave any way, I don’t see the harm in divulging secrets. After all, I’ve shared many of mine with you over the years. You don’t have to hide from me.”

“I don’t wish for our first and only union to be tainted,” Edelgard said by way of explanation. She wore an easy smirk, but her tone was avoidant and underlined with a quiet plea. “You won’t be pleased with what you’ll see. And I truly mean it this time. Trust me.”

“I do, Edelgard,” Dorothea said earnestly, though she kept her voice hushed and gentle, as if she were speaking to a timid rabbit. “But now I wish for you to trust me as well.”

She laid a hand on Edelgard’s shoulder, biting the corner of her lip in thought before pushing the woman down against the bed. 

“Dorothea,” the Phantom began, only to have her lips silenced by a finger.

“Trust me.”

Her nails were too long to imitate what Edelgard had just done to her, but perhaps she could do the other. So before the nerves could take hold of her and plant any second thoughts, Dorothea hooked her fingers at the hem of Edelgard’s black trousers and pulled them down. When Edelgard flinched, she halted and looked at the woman with a reassuring smile.

“May I continue?”

Edelgard visibly swallowed, conflict glazing her features. “Only... if you are certain.”

In all honesty, she had no idea what she was doing. She didn’t know the first thing that she needed to do to pleasure another woman. But she had prided herself to being a fast learner in everything she endeavored to do. And gazing down at Edelgard’s form, soaking in how a bright blush dusted her half covered cheeks and heat emanating from her body and seemed to ignite beneath her fingertips, Dorothea couldn’t be more sure of doing something in her life.

“I am,” she answered simply and with a confident grin that flashed her canines. “But I still require an answer from you, darling.” Turning the Phantom’s words against her made her feel dizzy with confidence. She’s carried confidence with her several times in the past, but never like this. Though it wasn’t enough to distract her from how easily the pet name dripped from her lips, or how right it felt to utter it.

When she received a slow nod, Dorothea fully removed the trousers and underwear where Edelgard’s glistening folds greeted her. “Is this because of me?” she asked as she hesitantly dipped her finger into Edelgard’s arousal.

“Yes, always,” Edelgard hissed, reflexively recoiling under the feeling of Dorothea’s nail. “Always because of you, dearest. ”

The songstress’s chest swelled at the confession. There were no minced words masking intent, or flowery prose meant to impress her. The words were plain and simple, striking her very soul with its raw sincerity. That alone was enough to propel her to crawl downwards and, like what Edelgard had done to her, perched both legs over her shoulders and began.

It was a bit awkward to say the least. Her inexperience was on full display, much to her chagrin as she struggled to keep a consistent rhythm and second thoughts distracted her from hitting the spot where Edelgard needed her the most. Ever the well of patience, though, Edelgard instructed her around the heavy breaths of desperation that wracked her body, coaxing her tongue in certain ways and in specific spots and when. She threaded her fingers through the soft chestnut locks, encouraging her lover, to _keep going, yes right_ there _, my dearest_ , and pulled her closer, thrusting her hips unconsciously into Dorothea’s unpracticed, yet still eager mouth.

Though Edelgard’s thighs were pressed against her ears, there was no masking the noises that filled the air around them. Edelgard’s voice was already hypnotic, but her keens of pleasure and shameless moans were absolutely spellbinding. And she wanted to hear _more_. Desire ignited within her and she redoubled her efforts.

Just as Dorothea’s jaw felt the tell-tale twinge of a cramp, Edelgard’s legs trembled around her. While she didn’t crest as loudly as Dorothea, euphoric warmth and pleasant haze still settled over her.

Witnessing Edelgard’s unraveling made her feel heady with power. To see her once elusive friend in person was one thing, but to see her come completely apart by her doing was intoxicating. There was a tug in her stomach that urged her to take this woman apart once more. But she refrained, and instead tucked a lock of hair behind Edelgard’s ear so that she may place a loving kiss on the crown of her head unobstructed. “How did I do?” she spoke against the woman’s silk hair.

A barely audible laugh answered her.

Then Edelgard shifted beneath her, moving to sit up. Soon, the two women, with their bodies bare to one another, sat face to face. Well... almost so.

Edelgard’s mouth opened and closed with indecision, while Dorothea waited with bated breath. She never thought she’d ever equate speechlessness to someone like the Phantom. But, as she had come to learn over the course of tonight, Edelgard was as human as they come.

Eventually, Edelgard reached over, delicately took both of Dorothea’s hands in hers, and slowly guided them towards the sides of her mask.

“It wasn’t made in jest that what lies beneath this mask will no doubt unsettle you,” Edelgard said. “You wish for me to trust you, Dorothea. You have it, just as you’ve had my heart and soul for the better part of five years since we’ve first met. You have my trust, just as I have a piece of your present. Whatever the outcome of you seeing the truth of what I am, I at least will have tonight to treasure for the rest of my days.”

And with that, Edelgard’s hands hell away, and her eyes fell shut with a shaky inhale followed by a slow, calming exhale. 

Dorothea took her bottom lip between her teeth. Her fingers trembled, and carefully lifted the mask up.

Bit by bit, Edelgard’s face was revealed, and the sheets bunched up in her hands as she braced herself for Dorothea’s reaction.

Finally, the mask was completely lifted and quietly dropped to the bed. Dorothea let out a soft gasp at the sight before her.

Edelgard shut her eyes tighter.

While one side of her face was normal, the side of her face that housed the red eye was a web of black veins that crawled from the top of the woman’s head like gnarled fingers, ending just below her cheekbones. A cacophony of questions swirled within Dorothea’s thoughts, culminating at her throat until it constricted and tears pooled in her eyes. _What was this? What_ happened _to you?_

So many of them wanted her voice, but all that could manage to say was Edelgard’s name in a hush.

“Now you see why I’ve hidden myself,” Edelgard strained. When all she was met with was further silence, she sighed and bowed her head low. “If you’d like I can escort you back to the surface. After you’ve dressed yourself of course. Thank you for giving me your time, Dorothea.”

“Edelgard,” the songstress hushed, hoping to pull the woman’s head back up to look at her. But when that didn’t work, she reached out and cupped the blackened cheek.

She startled, flinching at the unexpected touch and, as Dorothea hoped, raised her head where she was met with perhaps the softest, yet saddest smile she’s ever been given. It sent a pang through her heart, and another joined it when she felt Dorothea stroke her thumb over a vein.

Dorothea took in the woman’s naked features. Her two-toned eyes bright with unshed tears, wide with surprise and fearful expectancy. “Edelgard,” she said again.

Edelgard sat up straighter at attention. “Y-yes?”

She couldn’t help but smile at the action, and fondness inflected her next words. “My dearest friend of half a decade, the comforting voice of my loneliest nights and keeper of my deepest secrets, how dare you believe that this would deter me from you.”

Edelgard blinked. Then, finally, the tears that had gathered at the brim of her violet and red eyes streaked down. “You...”

Dorothea brought her other hand up to cup Edelgard’s other cheek and promptly wiped the tears away before pulling her into a tender kiss. 

She did have time to return it. Shock had taken her hostage and refused to let her move, but Dorothea seemed to hardly mind as she separated from her. 

“You are not afraid?” she managed to say at last.

Dorothea shook her head. “Alarmed? Yes. But afraid? After how you’ve treated me with such tenderness tonight and all the days that came before?” The songstress laughed breathily. “I’m almost offended you think so, Edie. You should know that I don’t scare easy.”

“Edie?” 

“My new name for you. If you’d allow it of course.”

“I... I don’t know. No one has ever... I never thought you would...” Every attempt to express the hurricane of emotions coursing through her died on her tongue and altogether leadened it with disbelief. Instead, what tumbled from her trembling lips were quiet hiccups and barely contained sobs.

“Oh, Edelgard,” Dorothea cooed and took the woman into her arms for a warm embrace. The two remained that way for a time, long after Edelgard’s sobbing had subsided. Though the silence was welcomed and the warmth shared between them was soothing, a niggling thought hung over both of them.

Dorothea was the one to gather enough nerve to ask, “Are you truly leaving?”

Edelgard went to speak.

“And don’t you dare say that tonight is not the time for it.”

Her mouth promptly closed, to which Dorothea sighed, “Edie.”

“I... I don’t wish to leave.”

“Then don’t.”

“And watch you go with him?” Edelgard spat, though the crack in her voice weakened it. “I can’t even bear the thought of it, and yet the thought of being apart from you is far worse.”

“Then don’t,” Dorothea said again, softer this time as she brought their forehead together, “You know, I have half a mind to scold you, Edie.”

“Scold me?” she sputtered indignantly.

“Yes, because it sounds as though you are rejecting yourself on my behalf. Ferdinand is my friend, but he doesn’t own my future. While it’s easy to imagine one with him, yes, that isn’t what I want.” In spite of herself, she giggled softly as a silly thought passed by her.

“Dorothea?” Edelgard said worryingly.

“Perhaps it’s foolish, but I’ve developed feelings for you without having ever seen your face.”

Edelgard shook her head. “Yes, it certainly sounds foolish, when you could quite literally have your pick of a partner.”

“I don’t pour everything I am into arias to vie for the attention of strangers, darling,” Dorothea said with a smirk. “Nor do I agree to be pulled into a mirror to sleep with them.”

Edelgard’s breath stuttered. “I don’t know what sort of future I can give you. I can’t promise it will be as comfortable or safe as you dreamed. Such promises are for optimistic individuals, and my optimism died long ago when...” She held a hand to her black-veined cheek. With a grimace, she forced her hand back down to her lap and she breathed in deep before speaking in confidence. “But I can promise that my heart will remain with you. I promise you my body, my soul, my everlasting love. For all your fears of being left alone when your beauty fades and voice withers, I promise I am sure, I am steady, and remaining by your side. From tonight that you’ve given me, and many presents that will follow your return to the surface, I promise you _me_.”

Overjoyed to the point of tears, Dorothea all but tackled Edelgard back to the bed and smothered her in a barrage of affectionate kisses and as many yes’s as she could muster in between.

Though they didn’t spend their entire night in the throes of passion like Edelgard had initially planned or how Dorothea had anticipated, both were content to lay beside each other where the songstress recounted her stories again, this time relishing in seeing Edelgard’s facial expressions as she did so. She decided that Edelgard’s smile was her favorite thing in the world. And as the candles around them dwindled their sticks of wax and dimmed the room around them, the women eventually found themselves drifting off to sleep. But in Dorothea’s last moments of consciousness, she burrowed deeper into Edelgard’s neck with a content sigh with the woman’s promises still ringing pleasantly in her ears.

To be and feel loved for the rest of her days... “That’s all I ask of you,” she murmured, and finally succumbed to her dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> if you'd like, you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/Ashtree111)  
> okay im gonna go hide out now.


End file.
